I Don't Want to Forget How Your Voice Sounds
by highsOffyou
Summary: Do you believe in love at first sight? How about love at first...listen? Curt&Arthur.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the movie or the characters.

Note: Simply put, this is a different take on Curt and Arthur's first meeting. I guess I just wanted to give their pairing another try…. Anyjoe, thoughts are in _italics_ and songs (just one, actually) are **boldfaced**, as usual.

"I Don't Want to Forget How Your Voice Sounds"

He felt love. He was sure of it. It wasn't even the kind that you feel for a puppy or some other trivial thing or entity. It was stronger. He had never felt such a passion for something he knew so little of.

The intoxicating voice that roused his feelings trailed off in the distance. He followed the sounds, almost raising his ear to detect their direction, like a dog sniffing the smell of fresh meat.

**One April day**

The voice was louder now, clearer.

**We'll go miles away**

**And I'll**

**turn to you and I'll say**

It was gruff and coarse, but gentle

He closed his eyes in delight. His ears eagerly absorbed the strumming of the strings and the light, hollow taps. His feet were almost reluctant to continue walking, but he willed himself to budge them.

**I've always loved you in my way**

**I'll always love you in my way**

He stopped short when he saw who the voice belonged to.

_Was it really?_

He's listened to all of his songs before, saw all of his appearances on television. Yet the voice he was hearing now was foreign. It was filled with something else, something that excited him.

It took a while for him to realize that the music had ceased. For a moment, his thoughts corrupted his senses. But there he was, sitting over the lidless, upside-down garbage can and clutching a red acoustic guitar.

"You're Curt Wild." he called out.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here?"

"Just playin' a song." Curt said, as if giving an unknown performance in a dingy alleyway was nothing out of the norm. "What's your name?" he asked casually.

"Me? Oh, Arthur." he answered nervously.

"Well, Arthur…" Curt started, leaving the other hanging. "What are you doing here?" he resumed.

"I just, ah, heard your singing, and it led me. I couldn't help it."

"Well, Arthur." Curt teased again.

"What?"

"Why don't we have a go at it?"

"You and me?" Arthur asked, perhaps feigning disbelief.

"Yeah."

Both of them were fully aware that they were alone. And so Curt just smiled at Arthur's confused response. He was used to this by now.

"H-Have a go at what?" Arthur stammered, feeling his pulse race.

"You know, go have a nice talk over some drinks. I haven't met anyone new in a while."

"Oh. Alright, sure."

(---------------)

"I really like your music." Arthur spoke.

"Yeah?" Curt questioned half-interestedly, raising an eyebrow. His expression progressed to a grimace as the bite of the liquor grated against his throat.

"Really." Arthur replied with an earnest look on his face. He was determined to keep the conversation going. His mind's obsession, as a matter of fact, truly lay in Brian Slade. There was no question in that. But at present, his heartstrings were being pulled by Mr. Wild, and he daren't stray onto the sore subject of Brian to nip their budding friendship. If he could perpetuate this, he thought, it might just grow into something bigger, slip into something more comfortable.

"I do what I can, you know?" Curt took a stab at being modest. At that point he was bordering drunk, but he wasn't out of touch with his surroundings.

"Well I think it's completely far out." Arthur stated in one breath. Their small talk was entering a monotonous phase. "It's real swell." he added, scared that it would finally burn out.

Curt smiled the same smile he displayed back in the alley. Cradling his head in his right hand, he placed his right elbow firmly on the bar. He looked down and counted two large mugs and seven shot glasses, all lined with lingering drops that have formed rings at their bottoms. Then he glanced to his left, at the bar space in front of Arthur. One tall, empty glass sat unmoved, and another, half-full, was still in Arthur's grip.

The twinkle in his eyes grew as the dimples on either side of his mouth rose. There was something different about this kid, he decided. He didn't want him for just the obvious reasons. No. He could've easily maneuvered anybody he chose, but there was something else in the air of this new tag-along, this new "groupie."

Was it the dependency on him that turned him on? Could it be the sheer knowledge that he possessed a power over his mind and soon, unrestricted access to his body? Maybe he was feeling the same effect he had on Brian when they were still together. Maybe it was only a change of events and it was simply his turn to experience it.

Curt failed to reason with himself and just kept smiling. He was pleasantly amused. He wasn't even sure of what exactly was especially inherent in Arthur. But whatever it was, it made him happy, and he was ages from that, even in the bare minute before Arthur stepped into his life.

Disclaimer: I don't own the quaint, little song "One April Day." It belongs to Stephin Merritt.

Note: Of course, I am interested in what you think about this, so do tell! Was it a good introduction? Should I abandon this notion, or proceed? I can't say that there is no doubt in me. And…what is it with me and alleys?


	2. Chapter 2

It was the smoke from Curt's cigarette that woke Arthur up. Rubbing his eyelids with the back of his hand, he watched the whorl of musky air circle the immediate space above the bed. His eyes traced the grey spiral down to the short stub between Curt's lips. The burning embers glowed and illuminated the room a bit, as Curt took a deep whiff. It wasn't even morning yet.

He furthered his view to reach that of the side table next to Curt. The metal ashtray was teeming with dead stubs drowned in ash. Curt had been smoking all night, he concluded, but he wanted to ask anyway.

"Were you smoking all night?"

"Pretty much."

"Headache?"

"Nah." Curt said, in a tone that sort of dismissed Arthur.

Arthur was wondering why Curt, who drank quite a lot the night before, would be wide awake, and he, who drank significantly less, was the one who was out cold. He supposed that Curt just had a high tolerance for liquor.

Then the reality of it all dawned on him.

_I'm in bed. With Curt Wild._

He took a peek under the billowy sheets covering them. Nothing on him.

_What happened? What did we do?_

It was all dreamlike, and he was trying to remember the dream. A tide of images rushed past him: he and Curt silently staring at each other in the doorway, his thumbs hooked on the back of Curt's pants, a gleam of Curt's smile as he snatched a look behind him. He recalled how nervous he was, trying not to tremble under Curt's weight. His stomach rippled when Curt hovered his hand over it. His neck tightened at every kiss or slap of tongue Curt delivered. He hoped that Curt had forgotten about that. His immediate courage had gotten him as far as naked, but when Curt made his striking advances he found himself flinching. And he would've moved out of the way each time if he wasn't caught in a distracting kiss, which forced him to think twice.

He was thinking twice about the whole thing now. He thought it over and decided that somehow he was "better" after the experience. He wasn't sure what that meant.

(---------------)

Arthur was still engrossed in his thoughts when the sound of Curt's voice broke the steady current.

"I'm gonna go out."

"Why? Where are you going?" He was surprised at how demanding he sounded.

"Going for a swim. Shake this all off."

"Shake what off?" Arthur questioned, sounding worried. He was afraid that by "all" Curt meant him and everything that happened.

"I've got a head." Curt said sleepily.

"Thought you said you didn't."

"Now I do." He picked himself up from the bed and reached for his clothes on the floor. Still sitting, he dipped his feet into the trouser-legs. Then he jumped up and pulled them on.

As Arthur watched Curt clothe himself, he realized something.

"Wait, where are you gonna swim?"

"Look outside." Curt smiled.

Arthur stepped out of the bed to peer out of the rather large window opposite the side of the table. It was dark, but he could see sparkling waves colliding against the beach. His mouth dropped a little, and he finally inquired "What? How'd we get here?"

The other didn't answer and instead, imparted his own question. "Wanna come?"

Arthur turned around and leaned beside the windowsill. He was thinking. But then, the very thought of the fact that he was thinking this over, a simple yes-or-no question, made him dismiss everything. He figured that he was thinking too much, and for that he was amply confused.

Already, Curt was halfway thru the door when Arthur made up his mind.

"I'm coming." he called out.

"Meet you there." the voice chimed from the hallway.

Feeling slightly more at ease, though still scattered, Arthur dressed himself spiritedly. He hummed as he buttoned his pants and zipped his boots up. He grabbed hold of Curt's jacket before leaving the room and maintaining the humming outdoors.

(---------------)

With dawn only beginning to approach, it was difficult to see Arthur's face and his rumpled forehead as he flexed his eyebrows askew. Only minutes had passed from the room to the promenade and from the promenade to the beach, but here he was, thinking again. He couldn't stop himself from imagining what Curt's outings with Brian must have been like. He predicted that he would be thrilled, about his much-worshipped idol and his…He didn't know what Curt was to him yet. But that wasn't what he got out of it. He found himself becoming more and more of a combatant for Curt's affections. And he was competing with Brian. But it wasn't even Brian, really. It was the memory of Brian. Yes, it all made sense…to him.

Arthur was so immersed in his ruminations that he didn't notice he had passed Curt, who had been taking a great pleasure in swimming. He walked back to where some articles of clothing, and what appeared to be a towel, lay. Yawning, he slinked out of Curt's jacket and his clothes and went to the water.


	3. Chapter 3

"Come." Curt said invitingly, as Arthur joined him. "What kept you? Were you oiling yourself in the dark? That only works when the sun's out, you know."

"No."

"No—It doesn't work when the sun's out?"

"No." Arthur laughed.

"The water's nice. Warm." Curt went on, changing the subject.

"Yeah. Was it like that when you got here, or did you make it that way?"

Now Curt laughed. "You're sick." He started to splash Arthur.

"Hey, sto' it." Arthur said, squinting away from the sprays of water Curt swooped and heaved at him.

Curt splashed harder. He kept going until Arthur splashed back. After that he stopped moving. He stood still, looking serious. Then in the next second he jumped, pouncing on Arthur. The two were hurled deeper into the water, frantically moving about. Almost at the same time their heads popped out of the shimmering sea. They were both out of breath, laughing and coughing up the salty water.

"I could do well with this better than cum." Curt spewed, sending himself into hysterics.

"And you were saying I was sick?" Arthur chuckled along.

"Shut up." Curt said, holding the laughter in. "You know I'm right."

"Whatever."

(----------)

Arthur made his way to the shore, with Curt plodding the water close behind.

"Shit, I forgot to bring a towel. Can you lend me yours?" Arthur requested tenderly.

"Sure. But ya have to let me whip you with it afterwards."

Arthur just grinned to himself.

(----------)

Once they were all done drying themselves and each other, quite playfully, Curt and Arthur paced the soft sands of the beach. Curt sashayed energetically, pausing every so often to routinely hit Arthur with the damp towel, like he bargained.

"Headache gone already?" Arthur asked, sensing the new air about Curt.

"Yeah. It was gone by the time you got your slow self down here!" Curt exclaimed, sending the towel flying.

Arthur treaded slowly and didn't object. He was pondering again.

"Curt, I have a question." he intruded on the quietness.

"Yeah?"

"Did you love Brian?"

"Fuck-yeah. You think I would've made that big an ass of myself for the world to see if I didn't?"

"Oh."

Curt wasn't finished.

"I still love him. Well, the thought of him, anyway. I won't ever be able to love him, or anyone else, I think, like I used to. I still think of him now and then. He's never gonna leave me. But at the same time he's just gone, part of something else, being someone else."

Arthur was stunned. He swallowed. "So what happened? What did you do?"

"Me? I'm not the one who went schizoid. It was all…It got too big, I guess, outgrew us in the end."

"Do you love me?" Arthur boldly presented the question, not three seconds after Curt stopped talking.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. We only met…what, yesterday morning?"

"And…you're already tired of me, I can tell. But, it doesn't really matter cause you got your night's worth."

Curt sighed as he caped his shoulders with the towel.

"Listen. Sex isn't necessary, love is. It's just a self-gratifying thing if it happens on a one-night stand. It's almost trivial."

"Is that what this is gonna stay as?" Arthur asked, distancing himself from Curt.

"Yes, if you keep asking questions like those. I've been trying to get past this. All this thinking and asking questions and doubting of yours is keeping me—keeping us from getting any further. I didn't want to tell you. I hoped you'd figure it out yourself and work it over."

Arthur never felt smaller than when his parents found him out. In his mind he was throwing himself at Curt's feet, begging for forgiveness.

An uncomfortable void passed between them before he spoke.

"I'm sorry, really." he finally said, solidly, in a solemn cadence.

Curt's head swayed lightly, like he was shrugging all his worries away. His arms opened, and immediately, Arthur was magnetized to him. The spring-like breeze substituted for words and seemed to sooth the uneasiness and dissolve their misunderstandings.

(----------)

"We've got to give this, what we have here, more of a chance." Curt murmured, as they strolled up the promenade. There was no need for a 'yes,' a nod, or other affirming action because they sealed the pact with a warm, seaside kiss.

(---------------)

Back in their room, Arthur sat on the bed while Curt smoked by the open window. Hours of somewhat hesitant story-telling and explaining seemed to give everything a fringe of comfort. It was almost therapeutic.

"I hate to beat this to death…" Arthur said. "But tell me something."

"What?" Curt asked, releasing a tiny mushroom of smoke from his mouth.

"This is completely hypothetical, but if you had the chance, would you have a threesome with me…and Brian Slade?"

Curt flashed Arthur a furtive smile and said "In your wet dreams." Next he added "I should've known something was up when you said 'This is completely hypothetical….' I wish I knew that back then."

The room rang with laughter.

FIN

Note: For one reason or other, I feel obligated to apologize if the ending was a tad too…saccharine. Anyjoe, I just needed to get away from all my drama. Everyone wants everyone to be happy, no?


End file.
